


Drive!

by imincharge



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Police, Clexa Week, Clexa Week - Day 1, Clexa Week 2018, F/F, One Shot, Thief Clarke, meet ugly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-23 19:47:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13794999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imincharge/pseuds/imincharge
Summary: Clarke is being chased by the cops, jumps in a random car e yells "drive!" Except that she couldn't have chosen a worse car to do it.clexa week 2018 prompt!





	Drive!

As soon as her foot hits the sidewalk, Clarke hears the police sirens in the distance. She looks behind, nobody is following her. The security guards are standing by the doors of the palace in complete obliviousness. She's sure nobody saw her, the manager was pretty bored looking at his phone when she left. And yet, the sirens are there screaming into the afternoon sky. 

Clarke isn't afraid. Actually, at this point, the police siren is a part of her life, just like birds singing in the morning. It doesn't matter if she likes it, it'll always be there. She has been doing this for years, all over the world. Stealing jewels, paintings, tech parts - anything that can be sold for ridiculous amounts of money. It's a risky job, but her life it's a small price for all the people she can help with this money. 

"Robin Hood addiction," is what her mother called while she stitched Clarke up once again a few weeks before. For Clarke is more than this, though. It's about life making sense. It's about living in a world where you know someone is out there to help you when you need the most, even if she's the one who needs to be this person. Someone has to be. 

Her father taught Clarke this. First, when he never shut up about what was right. Then later, when nobody was there to protect him and he was killed. Now if Clarke has the opportunity to do what is right, it doesn't matter how it will be, she'll take it. So Clarke ignores the sirens. She simply avoids making eye contact with anyone and walks faster, without looking back. 

"Shit," comes Raven's voice over her earpiece. "They got you."

"Really? But nobody-"

"I don't know. Anonymous call to the police. They know it's you."

Clarke sighs.

"Okay, here we go," she says. "Octavia is ready?"

"Babe, I was born ready," Octavia answers in her earpiece. "I'm seeing you." 

"Clarke, wait where you are," Raven says. "If you keep walking the traffic camera will get you."

Clarke kneels and pretends she's tying her shoelaces until the blue pickup is close enough. As the car passes, she throws her heavy backpack into the open back and grabs another. The streets are busy enough that nobody pays attention to the quick exchange. Clarke walks away, her body flying forward without the weight on her back. The new backpack is thankfully stuffed with foam and... Well, she never knows what surprises Raven has in store for her. 

"Fuck. They're blocking the area," Raven says. "How...? Whatever. Change of plans. Octavia, get the jewels the hell out of there."

"Thanks for caring about my safety, babe," Octavia answers. Raven ignores her.

"Clarke, there's an alley across the street, keep your head down but when you get there, run for your motherfucking life. You have five minutes." 

Five minutes. Clarke just needs to make it to a safe building three blocks from there. She runs into the darkness of the alley. There's a fence dividing the two sides, and she climbs it easily with the ability of someone who has done it many times. Her feet hit the ground, her hands slide on the dirty floor as she regains balance and pushes herself forward to keep running. 

When it hits her, she doesn't have time to think or breathe. Her body swings sideways, completely out of balance, and Clarke crashes against the ground. Only when she opens her eyes, seeing the tire of a car almost touching her nose, is that Clarke understands that someone punched her face when she got out of the alley. 

It hurts like hell. 

The sound of boots approaching bring Clarke to reality, she's back on her feet quickly. The world around her, though, takes a minute more to stop swirling. She sees the image of a man come into focus just as he grabs her by the backpack. Clarke twists around, freeing her arms from the straps, and runs. She could stay and fight, of course. But she's not stupid enough to waste her time. Besides that- Clarke stops at the corner of the street to breathe and figure it out where she is. The man stopped to search the backpack, just what she wanted. 

"Sorry not sorry, dude," Clarke says as she presses a button on her watch. 

She doesn't wait to see the man, and a few people passing by, fall on the ground after a red gas starts to come out of the backpack. 

"Raven?" She calls after seeing a police car blocking the street. "Where to now?"

She hears the sirens and the ever constant buzz of the afternoon traffic, but no answer. She realizes that the earpiece disappeared from her ear. "Fuck," Clarke mutters under her breath turning around to try her luck on another street. This is not the first time something like this happens, though. Clarke keeps walking. Two more blocks and she's in the safe building. 

Except that when Clarke gets near the building, she sees the red and blue lights blocking the traffic. The distant sound of a helicopter joins the sirens. Clarke doesn't need Raven to know that she needs to get out of there now. So she runs back, weaving her way through the crowd, using what she remembers after having studied the area to escape towards the river. Time for plan B. 

As she walks, her eyes scan every direction, building, person. Her eyes fall on the face of a man at the same time he looks at Clarke. When she sees he's wearing the blue police uniform, he's already alerting the group around him. 

Clarke looks around, searching for a way out. The traffic lights at the end of the street turn from red to yellow. If she gets to the other side of the street just before the lights turn green, maybe she can get away. 

This is when Clarke sees her. A woman opening the door of a car parked just ahead. Clarke doesn't think twice. 

The men hesitate when they see Clarke lunging forward - what kind of woman would run alone towards a group of heavily armed officers? - and when they realize what she's actually doing, the lights are already green. 

"Drive!" Clarke screams, falling into the back seat. 

The woman is so startled by the invasion that she obeys without Clarke even needing to point a gun at her. They hear honks and screams when the driver pulls the car into the street, and Clarke waves goodbye to the officers through the rear window as they drive away.

"Thank god," Clarke says, sinking back into the seat then leaning forward between the front seats to talk to the driver. "Turn the next right and follow the river. Avoid traffic at all costs."

"We should make a run a for the bridge now," the woman says and turns left. Just like that. 

"What?" Clarke grabs the gun even if it's too late to turn back now. "I don't know what you think this is, but I'm in charge here."

The woman doesn't answer. She doesn't even react to the gun. She simply drives. 

The car needs to slow down because of the heavier traffic as they approximate the bridge, just like Clarke feared. The last thing she wanted is to finish this day jumping off a bridge into a polluted river, but she would if it was the case. This was one of the escape plans she studied with Raven. 

"Look, if you're trying to pull something on me-" Clarke touches the woman's shoulder with the gun, leaving it visible for her.

"I'm not," the woman answers, just as they hear the sirens again.

"Great, because if something happens to me, you won't get out." 

"Yeah? Because you're going to kill me?" The woman turns to her, raising her eyebrow. She is strikingly beautiful and Clarke shouldn't be thinking about this right now. Before Clarke can answer, the woman adds, "You may want to put your seatbelt on now." 

Clarke rolls her eyes just as the woman turns the wheels and crashes against the car next to them, opening space to move ahead. People start noticing that something is up and, with the sirens close on their backs, the cars start opening the road to let the police pass, which means that they have an open path to escape. They manage to get to the other side of the bridge, just in time to see two more police cars arriving.

"I told you!" Clarke yells.

The woman ignores the yelling and hits the accelerator. The motor hums loud as they go straight towards the police cars trying to block the passage. Clarke feels her entire body shaking when the side of their car drags against the others as they manage to pass just between them. 

The driver takes an empty exit, driving away from the main traffic to the deserted area of the docks along the river, and they have 10 seconds of peace until four police cars are following them again. 

Clarke adjusts her position, she starts saying, "Now-", and that's it. The car abruptly turns left, changing the lane. 

Clarke grabs the seats to steady herself seeing a truck coming right at them. They leave a honk screaming behind as the car hits the curb and jumps forward, shaking as the driver leads them over the sidewalk and into a thin fence that surrounds the port complex. At this point, it's like they're inside a blender. Clarke hears the noise of metal being dragged on asphalt, and sirens, and honks, and screams - she realizes that she is the one screaming. 

The red, greens and blues of large containers pass as a blur outside of the windows as they make their way down a corridor inside the port area. The driver is still quiet, she has a steel grip on the wheel and looks straight ahead, at the wall of containers waiting for them at the end. 

At the last moment, the driver turns right but they're too fast to make it. The tires slide on the ground, and Clarke doesn't have time to brace herself before the side of the car explodes against the wall. She's thrown against the window, just in time to see the glass shattering. The driver doesn't stop, though. She keeps pressing her foot on the pedal, letting the side of the car drag against the containers until she's able to move the car away. 

"What do you think you are doing?" Clarke screams, trying to hold on the seat, the door, anywhere her hand can reach, as her body is thrown around. At least they're not being followed anymore. 

"I told you to put the seatbelt on," the woman answers. 

The car turns again, throwing Clarke to the side one more time. And again, and again, as the woman drives through the labyrinth of containers. All Clarke can do is to hold on the seats until she finally sees the streets again. This is the other side of the port, a part of the city beyond the area Raven marked as dangerous. Which means that she has a minute or two until someone tracks this car. 

Clarke rests back on the seat, letting the woman free to decide their destiny for a while, as she enjoys the nice feeling of the breeze touching the sweat dripping down her forehead. Now the gun is near her foot where it fell at some point and she decides to leave it there. 

For the first time, Clarke pays attention to the woman driving. She's attractive, yes. Wavy brown hair, sharp features and the intensity in her focused green eyes is just intriguing by itself. She's looking straight ahead, to the street. They're circling a bunch of forgotten, sketchy streets surrounded by the tall walls of stocking sheds. 

The woman is wearing a simple white social shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. When Clarke notices the dark stain on the front, she instantaneously smells the coffee. There are a cup and a soaked bag of donuts on the ground in front of the seat next to her. Now Clarke feels bad for having done this. 

"You know, in another life, I'd buy you a new shirt," Clarke says. 

"You should buy me a new car," the woman answers, stoically, making Clarke laugh.

"Okay, fair." Clarke leans forward. "I'm Clarke, by the way. And you are...?" 

"You're not afraid I'll give them your name?" 

"Nah. They already know exactly who I am." 

The woman keeps driving, in silence. Clarke can see she's thinking. 

"I'm Lexa," she says when she stops at a red light. 

There's no one crossing the street. Actually, there's no one on the streets at all. 

"Nice to meet you, Lexa. Thanks for the ride. You're actually really good at this."

"I know," Lexa answers. She raises her eyes to meet Clarke's through the rear mirror. "I'm a cop." 

Clarke smiles but her eyes reveal the uncertainty. 

"You're joking, right?" 

"It looks like I'm joking, Clarke?" 

Clarke makes a run for the door, and, of course, it's already locked. So Clarke grabs the gun on the ground. Lexa seems unfazed by all of it, she simply starts driving again when the light turns green and doesn't even look back when she starts talking.

"23 robberies. No deaths," Lexa says. "You may be a thief, Clarke, but you're not a killer." 

"The thing about criminal records, Lexa, is that they only show what they know."

"I'd think better before confessing murder to a cop. Even more when we both know it's a lie." 

"Good point." Clarke leans back. "So what do you want? You went through all that trouble to get me out of there, just to hand me to the police?"

"I'm the police," Lexa says. "But yes."

It doesn't make sense. 

Lexa couldn't possibly know that Clarke was going to jump into her car. She must be surprised under all this facade of casual arrogance. And she's trying to buy time. But why?

Clarke looks around, trying to find any hint of who this woman really is and what she wants. The car is old enough, the inside is clean but battered. It doesn't have a radio or any touch of personality beyond a few files that fell in the gap between the right seat and the door. This car was either bought to be disposable, or this woman isn't being backed by the police. If Clarke wants to know what's up, she'll have to make her talk. 

"You know that I can just punch this window and jump outside, right?" Clarke says, pointing to the window next to her, the one that was shattered before. 

"This is the easiest way to cause an accident."

"Yes, although one might argue that this is all already an accident," Clarke says, moving to the front seat. 

For a moment it seems like Lexa will try to stop her, but she doesn't say anything and Clarke sits next to her. Clarke ignores the dirty ground under her feet and uses the opportunity to grab the files she saw before. With the corner of her eyes, she sees Lexa putting an extra effort into looking like she doesn't want to pull the file away from Clarke. 

"Besides that," Clarke says, seeing her own face in a picture on the first page as she starts going through the file, "you seem to be pretty familiar with me, you know that I can do it."

"So why didn't you?" Lexa asks. Clarke looks at her, smiling. 

"It could cause an accident," she answers.

Lexa bites her lip, trying to remain serious, and stares at the empty street ahead. Clarke likes to see how her green eyes are almost gray, reflecting the decaying buildings around them. And even if they're sitting next to each other, it feels like they're worlds apart. The driver is lost somewhere else. Somewhere dark. The type of place that makes her grit her teeth and close her hands into first. 

Clarke is no stranger to places like this. 

When she speaks again, the humor disappeared from her voice. Clarke looks like a completely different person, staring straight at the woman beside her and speaking in a commanding tone, "Why did you help me?"

"You had a gun pointed at me, Clarke."

"Bullshit. I want the truth."

"You're in no position to make demands."

"And yet, I'm still here, doing it. So how's going to be?"

Lexa sighs, taking her time to turn the wheel to pull the car to yet another empty street. Clarke pays attention to how Lexa never leaves the same area as if she knows they're safe here. 

"The truth is that I wasn't helping you, Clarke," Lexa confesses. "If I'm the one who gets you, I'll have my job back." 

This. This makes perfect sense. This also stings Clarke exactly where it shouldn't. 

"So you're just going for the big prize," Clarke says with a bit of annoyance in her voice. Lexa laughs because this is absurd. 

"Do you know how long I've been searching for you? Do you have any idea of what you have caused to my life?" 

The way Lexa says it, the way her eyes turn dark and her jaw clenches - even the way her fingers wrap around the wheel -, it's all the answers Clarke needs. At once everything makes sense. From the dark shadows under Lexa's eyes to her wrinkled shirt and the soaked donuts on the ground. She might have been a cop once, a really good one if any of their escape says something. But now... something happened. 

Clarke happened. 

"No, I don't know," Clarke says. 

"I've been investigating you since the Bridge Incident."

"The Bridge Incident. That was..." 

All Clarke remembers from that day is the taste of blood and dust. It was supposed to be a quick job but somehow the police were waiting for her. 

"Catastrophic. People died, the reconstruction costs were astronomic." 

Clarke raises her hands in surrender.

"Okay, you're right. But you know that it was the police who exploded the bridge, right?" 

"I don't care who did it. What you do is wrong, Clarke. They were protecting the city from you. This is our duty. If you weren't there nobody would have died." 

Clarke stops for a moment, searching in Lexa's face for a reason behind the sudden anger in her voice. The bridge incident wasn't the only time things went wrong. And she saw what Lexa has in the file. Lexa knows that if it wasn't for what Clarke does, a lot of other people would have died. This can't be the only problem. 

"You lost someone there," Clarke tries, and she notices when Lexa's eyes flinch even if she does her best to look impassive. "This is why you want my head." 

"I don't want your head, Clarke," Lexa corrects her. "What I want is justice. I want..." She trails off, looking almost too tired to talk. " I did everything I could to find you, I put all my efforts into it."

"And they fired you for doing that? It doesn't make sense." 

"Things got a bit out of hand..." Lexa says, then sighs. "A lot out of hand, actually. My Captain used to say that every cop has one case that sticks with them, and you have to move on eventually because you'll never have a solution. If you don't... Well. I kept going until my Captain was forced to give me an ultimatum. I had to choose between my job or finding you."

"It looks like you made the wrong choice." 

Lexa shakes her head.

"For me, it wasn't really a choice. I couldn't..."

"You couldn't stop," Clarke says, surprising Lexa. "Because what is the point? If you just let things like this happen... What does this mean about life? How could you simply move on?" 

Lexa doesn't say anything, she just looks at Clarke as if she's asking herself who is this person sitting right next to her. Clarke smiles. 

"We have more in common than you think, officer." 

"I was afraid of that," Lexa says.

"So it was you, wasn't it? The one who called the cops today," Clarke asks. 

"You didn't even bother covering yourself, Clarke. You walked through the main door."

"I knew it! I knew something was weird. That manager didn't see anything." Clarke smiles. "But wait, how did you know I'd be here?" 

"You and your partners aren't really inventive. It completely fits your profile," Lexa says, and she sees the way Clarke's eyes widen when she says the word 'partners.' This time Lexa is the one who smiles. "Do you think I wouldn't have figured it out?" 

"I work alone," Clarke says, refusing to look at Lexa. "I don't work very well with others. Less money for me, you know?" 

Lexa observes her for awhile, without saying anything. Then she looks back to the streets. 

"It doesn't matter. We're here now. Just you and me," Lexa says. 

"Yes, we are," Clarke says. She looks out of the window even if she already saw the same green building four times. "What would happen if you managed to catch me?"

"If?" Lexa raises her eyebrows. "When I show up with you, I'll talk to my Captain. I think I'll have a second chance." 

Clarke can hear Raven saying in her head that surrendering is an awful idea. But Raven also said the same thing years ago, when Clarke suggested robbing something for the first time, and now they're here. Deep down Clarke knows that she can't keep robbing people forever, no one can. You eventually stop, or you're stopped. Either way, something was going to happen sooner or later. 

Maybe the time has come. 

Clarke pulls up her sleeve, showing a scar on her arm. 

"Rio de Janeiro, 5 years ago."

"I saw the files," Lexa says, giving her a look that makes it clear that she knows what Clarke is talking about. 

"He was my best friend," Clarke says. "It was the first time I thought of giving up." 

These words hang between them, dancing around the silence as Lexa keeps driving up and down the same desert streets. If they weren't alone, someone would have noticed them by now. But they are alone, and the skies are clear and the afternoon is silent, even the city traffic sounds are coming from far, far away. The clock ticks inside Clarke's head.

She always thought of herself as one of the good guys, even if it was against the law. She always did what was right, and helping Lexa can be the perfect ending to a quite successful career. She'd finish it on her own terms, doing the right thing until the last moment. Truth be told, Lexa was right, and what Clarke did was wrong. Too many lives were changed by what she did, sometimes not in a good way if what happened to Lexa is any proof.

Her friends will be safe. Octavia has the jewels and they'll have money to figure it out what to do next. Maybe she can even make an agreement with Lexa to leave this part out of the files. Everything will be okay. 

And yet, even if her brain knows it's the right thing, she can't make her heart believe that this is the best solution. 

"Maybe you're right," Clarke says. "Maybe I'm really one of the bad guys."

"You are," Lexa says. She looks at Clarke, "You won't give up, will you?"

"I guess I won't go down so easy," Clarke says with a small self-deprecating smile. Lexa shakes her head. 

"I didn't think you would." She's smiling when she says it, though. 

"I'm sorry," Clarke says, starting to accept that she is a real asshole. "Maybe, you know, you can find your second chance elsewhere? I mean, there's plenty of opportunity to someone with your skills out there."

"Are you offering me a job?" 

"I was trying to be emphatic because there's no way in hell you'll be able to catch me."

"I don't know, I like my chances. I mean, this day started with the person I was looking for literally jumping into my car." 

"Okay, but consider this: the two of us, alone, and a nice bed. All night," Clarke smiles at Lexa, then Clarke smiles even more when she sees that Lexa is fighting a smile. "What I'm saying is that there are really better ways to end this." 

Lexa shakes her head. "You're really..." Lexa pauses, looking at the streets as she thinks. "I've been investigating you for years. Every day."

"I'm honored. I don't think any of my exes spent so much time thinking about me like this," she says, just as they hear the sound of helicopters approaching. Clarke sits straighter in the seat. "Shit. Just as things were really getting better." 

Lexa finally turns into a new street. Clarke was half-expecting to be met with an ambush there, but they're in another empty street, this time along the river. She can see the gray waters where the sidewalk ends. Which means that if the helicopters come this way, they'll be completely exposed. 

Clarke thinks about her options. No, she already knows her options because her brain was trained for this. It's second nature. She just has to throw her file at Lexa and, with the distraction, turn the car into the water. It's a bad idea and they'll probably die if she doesn't unlock the doors in time, but it's still better than trying to escape from the hell that is about to break loose. Her thoughts are interrupted when the car abruptly stops. 

"Wh-"

"You're free to go, Clarke."

"What?" 

"You heard me," Lexa says, and she reaches over Clarke to open the door for her. "I'm guessing you have a plan to escape using the river. Go." 

Clarke gets out the car, hesitating. She turns back and sees that Lexa also got out and is walking towards the back of the car.

"You should come with me," Clarke says. 

"You're wasting your time," Lexa answers, starting pushing her car towards the water. "At this point, they know it's my car. They'll be searching for me."

Clarke decides to go back and help her. Lexa doesn't say anything as they push the car towards the water until it reaches the edge of the sidewalk, then gravity does the rest. The car slides from their hands into the river, breaking the calm surface. 

goes back and helps until the car reaches the edge of the sidewalk, then it goes the rest of the way alone, falling into the river and disappearing under its gray waters. 

"If you come with me, they won't find you," Clarke says, as they watch the car disappearing into the gray waters.

"And they'll think I'm working with you. No. I'll go back and lead them somewhere else. You should go." 

"But you are working with me." Clarke insists, turning to Lexa. "You were never going to hand me to the police, were you?" 

"I'm the police," Lexa says, firmly. The hurt pride reaching her voice. "And today I came here to finish this. I just didn't expect it would be this way." She looks at Clarke. 

Lexa watches her for a while, studying the thief. Clarke waits patiently, feeling the wind washing over them, shaking their hairs, clothes. The officer in front of her seems unshakable, almost peaceful. For a while, they're just two strangers standing there by the river, waiting for the moment that their lives will be pulled apart again, daring the words written in the book of their destiny to change. 

"I've been reading about you for so long, now that you're here..." Lexa breaks the silence. "I can't do it. I guess it's easier to create monsters when we are so far from each other. And even then..."

"You were angry with me," Clarke says, "and then you started investigating what I was doing and started doubting yourself."

Lexa nods. 

"You're quite impressive, Clarke Griffin," Lexa says, and there's such a quiet happiness in her eyes that Clarke feels a wave of electricity runs down her own body. 

"Okay..." Clarke says, trying to shake it off. 

"What you are doing is still wrong, though," Lexa says. 

"And you're too good for your own good." 

Lexa smiles and reaches with her hand to put behind Clarke's ear a few fallen strands of hair, revealing the purple bruise forming where Clarke was punched earlier. 

"You take care of this, will you?"

Clarke nods. 

"You better go now," Lexa says. 

"But and you? What are you going to do?"

"Maybe I'll start a new career. I don't know." 

"You should be a private investigator. You're really good at finding people." 

"Not really," Lexa says. "Just you." 

Clarke smiles, then looks at Lexa's lip and back at her eyes. 

"Well, I'll count on that, officer," Clarke says. And she runs. 

Clarke runs because she has to. She runs because she knows that at any given moment the sirens will be back. She runs because this is what she always has done. This time, though, she looks back. And she sees Lexa standing there, by the river, watching as she runs away. Somehow she knows this won't be the last time she sees her. 

Somehow she knows that this isn't goodbye. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it! I'll be back for free day with another one. :)


End file.
